Secrets
by Katie1995
Summary: Mrs. Everdeen has many secrets to keep from her daughters. Secrets like Cray and that one moment of weakness. Please R&R!


**(A/N – I do not own the characters or**_**The Hunger Games**___**in any way, all rights are reserved to**_**Suzanne Collins**_**.)**

**Secrets**

**(Mrs. Everdeen's P.O.V.)**

The snow falls spitefully cold upon my exposed neck. The shawl I have pulled up around me does not do a good job of keeping the cold winds of winter whipping around my feet and legs. I cup my hands to my mouth and breathe into them, determined to keep what little movement I have in my fingers. The sun is going down and the snow's icing over, reflecting the last Golds of the evening. Tripping, I catch myself with my hands on the floor, the ice melting with the warmth of my hands. A pair of feet stands before me and I draw back quickly, not wanting this person to see me in such a state.

"You dropped this," a voice says, calmly, handing me the drenched shawl.

I let my eyes trace the person's face and I draw even further back when my eyes land on the uniform he is wearing.

"I'm going home," I splutter, immediately, not wanting to cause any trouble for being out after curfew.

"Home," muses the man, examining me as he does. "To your children."

I hiss automatically and step away, shouting at him, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

The peacekeeper shakes his head and steps away from me, allowing me clear passage. I push swiftly past him and back to the Seam where I know Katniss and Prim will probably be sleeping; that is if their empty stomachs aren't keeping them awake too much.

Sudden guilt rushes through me and the impact is like a punch to the chest. I stop and breathe in as everything that I've suppressed floods my tired mind; my Husband's death, Katniss receiving a medal of Valour, Prim's cries in the middle of the night and the fact that I have to face the girls' reaping by myself. I've grown distant from those who I love. The fact my Husband is no longer there is crushing to think about, and when I do remember, it hurts like it hurts now.

Gasping for air, I continue towards the Seam, only stopping when I see three girls queued outside the head Peacekeeper's – Cray's – back door. The lights from his house are blazing through the windows and I can hear his laughter before he even opens the door. Like always, Cray holds a bottle of liquor in one hand. In the whole of District 12, Cray's one of the heaviest drinkers I know, however, he is no match to Haymitch who, lives, breathes and drinks the stuff. Keeping interest in the floor before me, I carry on until I reach the corner.

"Well, well, well," Cray exclaims, loudly. "Look what the odds have brought me today!" He's chuckling and sounding rather jolly which is odd when he lives in such a dire district.

"How much?" one woman asks.

Silence is followed by the question and a pause is shared until he answers. "How much are _you _worth?"

I slip on some black ice but catch my balance, disbelieving the words he has just said. And then, although I know there are rumours and one hundred different reasons to why she could be asking, it dawns on me. This woman I do not even know is prostituting herself. I tell myself to carry on, but my feet don't dare move. After all, I don't want to draw attention to myself.

"Annabelle," a woman whispers in response. "You don't want to do this."

"She's right," agrees another woman. "I've been doing this for years. But you, you have everything left to live for."

"Like what?" Spits Annabelle. "A life of starvation because there are no jobs. I've lost my husband," she pauses, "everything."

Cray sighs in what sounds like disappointment and the crunching of the snow under his feet tell me that the girls finally left after much debating. My feet jolt forwards, but I'm rooted to the spot. I can't believe what thoughts are running through my mind - the fact that this man is looking for women and _paying _them. I shake the feeling off and carry on, but a voice stops me again.

"You," it says, a chill running up my spine. "What are you doing?" I allow myself to turn around and meet his eyes.

"Nothing," I answer, my voice even, even though I fear what is to come.

A smile passes Cray's lips and he walks towards me, placing to hands on my shoulders. "It's been a long time I've seen a woman like you," he comments, much to my embarrassment. "Just look at those full, rose bud coloured lips and those piercing blue eyes." He places his index finger over my lips and I pull away immediately.

"I have a Husband," I answer fiercely. I see he's still smiling and I realise I have just made a mistake. I have no Husband anymore. "I am still married."

"To who?" Cray mocks, my own tears threatening to fall.

"Cedar," I whisper.

Cray walks around me, his smile still rested upon his thin lips. "Where is he now?"

I drop my head and gaze at my hands.

"Where's the money coming from?"

Clasping my hands together, I refuse to give in to his words.

"Cedar?"

I close my eyes tightly, but his words still damage me.

"Cedar's gone; you have no money, no food. I can give you that."

"You can give me nothing," I spit back, raising my hand which he blocks all too easily.

Walking towards the back door, he leans against it. "I can prevent your children from starvation," he finishes.

A howl of wind rushes through the trees and my daughters come into mind, both of them quickly becoming malnourished and ill. I want nothing more than to stop them from dying because of starvation. It can't happen to my family; I promised Cedar I would keep them safe and from harm. To do that, I need money.

"And," he continues, "You can keep a lonely man company for the night."

I shake my head and take a step back, but my children's faces haunt me. Stumbling, I fall forwards again and I can see defeat on the horizon. It's come to a point where I would do anything for them.

"How much?" I ask, my voice shaking with the effort to keep the tears back.

Cray chuckles slightly, but answers, "It's ten dollars for the night."

"Ten?" I shoot back. "That's not enough!"

"Fifteen, then," he counters.

I shuffle my feet, kicking the freshly fallen snow over my poor water resistance shoes.

"And you won't tell _anyone_," I demand.

Cray crosses his heart, "Not a soul."

"Only this once." He places an arm around my waist, leading me into his house. Kissing my cheek, he whispers:

"They all say that."

**~ XOX ~**

I stumble away from Cray's house and wrap my now dried shawl around me, hoping that the rising sun being so low means it's still fairly early in the morning. I can't breathe properly through my sobs and it hurts with every step I take.

_What happens if I fall pregnant? What would my children think of me? How can I even begin to explain where I was last night?_

I slip and fall to the floor outside the Justice Building. _I give up, _I confess to myself. _Better to stop lying and accept defeat._

I'm not very far away from The Hob and so it's not long until a fine trickle of businessmen and women start to make their way to the black market. A figure, vaguely familiar is limping towards me. I know she's coming for me because he eyes are concentrated especially on me.

"Dahlia," Greasy Sae, whispers. "What are you doing out here? You look petrified."

Placing her arms around my torso, she helps me up. I nearly fall, but she helps me hobble home until I get to the outside of my house.

"Dahlia?" Hazelle's voice rings clearly through the crisp air and I try to get in as quickly as I can, but she stops me. "Dahlia," she repeats, placing hand on my upper arm. "What's happened?"

She forces me to turn around so I'm gazing at her from under my eyelashes, thick with salty tears.

"I've done something... something terrible," I gasp through stabs of pain.

Taking me into her arms, she strokes my hair with her free hand. "You couldn't do anything terrible," Hazelle replies, soothingly.

"But I did," I retort, tears streaming down my face as she kisses the top of my head.

"What could be so terrible?"

I catch her eye and hold her gaze, answering angrily ay myself. "Selling myself."

Hazelle gasps and drops her arms from my body.

"Cray?" She asks. I nod, the full weight of my actions choking me further. "Why?"

"Because my kids are starving," I say, justifying myself in the only way I can.

"You could have told me," Hazelle whimpers. "I could have helped you."

"How?"

She pauses and silence follows.

"See?" I say, forcefully. "No-one can help me."

**A/N – Yeah, this idea came to me really randomly. Anyways, I hope you liked this idea. If so, please review! Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


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